Fallen pushed up from the floor and stood, head held high, shoulders back. "Dracula lusted for the Neteru in the Sea of Perpetual Agony until he nearly went mad when she ripened," Fallon murmured in Dananu, staring at Vlad first and then the Dark Lord with dawning awareness. He ignored Elizabeth's hiss of jealousy and a sly half-smile tugged at his mouth as he finally settled his gaze on Vlad. "Man ami. . . you didn't even try to take her as a hostage for a lair prize later--you tried to kill her outright. . . the female Neteru."
"Of course I did, you backstabbing harlot!" Vlad shouted, about to lunge at Nuit. But Fallon Nuit's eerily calm countenance gave Vlad pause as Lilith covered her mouth.
"That could only mean one thing," Fallon said, his Dananu now ringing out with confidence as his line of vision shifted to become steady on the Dark Lord. "She no longer lures . . . the female Neteru's once-irresistible scent has been tainted by the Light that now inhabits her womb. Damali Richards Rivera has conceived! Always efficient in your evil, you released the pale horse to kill two birds with one stone ... to lure the angels away from your heir and to infect the Neteru prophecy child."
"The devil is in the details--did I not say that when I first came in here? Give the man a seat at the head of the table, Lilith. He was the only one who stuck to his guns, figured it out based on a known variable--Dracula's behavior--and had the balls to present the theory. I like that," the Dark Lord said, laughing as he offered Nuit his goblet. "The game just got very interesting, and I have much work to do."
Time was pressing down on Damali like an invisible anvil. While the team absorbed the shock of what they'd just learned, something very instinctive kicked in and made her stop all conversation. She couldn't worry about how people were processing any of the news. They had to get out of there. Now.
Damali rushed forward to the middle of the room, her second-sight sending a hot poker of pain through her temples until it bloomed behind her eyes. "Everybody chill!" she shouted. "I can see the inside of the church. We've gotta move, come out of the energy fold in the long corridor just before you get to the sanctuary. Then we'll blend in with the tourists. There's a man there now, seeking his life's purpose ... he's going into a confessional booth. If we wait, we'll miss him--he's our contact."
"Baby, you all right?" Concern laced Carlos's expression as Damali doubled over, beginning to pant.
"No," she whispered, standing up slowly. "I'm really not."
Chapter THREE
It's been three days, and no word." Rabbi Zeitloff turned his heft away from the television in the Brooklyn safe house and closed his eyes against the violence being broadcasted from around the world.
"They have finally arrested the Dalai Lama," Monk Lin said in a quiet, angry tone. Lines of worry had begun to mark time on his otherwise ageless, bronze face. "A spiritual man of peace, Chinese government officials have dredged up false charges against a man of impeccable character, simply because of his words of truth and enlightenment. . . our Neteru Guardians are nowhere near as iconic, and thus would never stand a chance against an organized campaign of propaganda. We must go and protect those children. They must not fall into the hands of misdirected human authorities."
"How do we get to them, get into Washington, D.C., where they were last seen?" Imam Asula's calm gaze raked his fellow clerics as he unfolded his towering height from the small, white, vinyl-covered chair. He walked to the window and stared out at the city that never slept, his large, dark presence swathed in white linen almost blotting out the sunlight within a full pane.
"Perhaps our goal should be to secure their loved ones? We do not know where the Neteru Guardian team has hidden themselves, but we must ensure that baby Ayana, her grandmother, and Dan's parents do not perish at the hands of evil."
"Yes," Monk Lin said quietly, moving a worry bead through his graceful fingers as a rare breeze from the window caught the hem of his Tibetan robes. "But with the chaos, do we even know for certain where they are? We can try to get through the barricades to drive to Philadelphia to seek the child and her grandmother . . . perhaps Dan's parents will remain safe in the synagogue refuge here?"
"But Dan's mother and father must be confused and frightened by what they are hearing," Imam Asula said in a sudden boom of rage. He pointed at the television. "What mother or father could withstand such an onslaught of lies about their child? Even if they are physically safe, we must go to them and for once and for all reveal to them the truth of their son's sacrifice . . . they must be able to have peace in their souls, if not in their minds."
Rabbi Zeitloff stared at the television for a moment and then out of the window. "Don't you find it odd that the communications channels--radio, television, and such--are still functioning as though nothing unusual is going on, when the entire monetary system has temporarily shut down? They said the money is dirty and could pass the virus from human hand to human hand--so who would still be on the air at a time like this? Who would still be trying to document events while everyone is at risk, even newsanchors?"
The elderly rabbi turned to his fellow clerics. "While all of this is happening, and the people on television are still looking freshly showered and clean, stray dogs and cats are fleeing down the streets. Pit bulls are savaging homeless people for food. Vermin is pouring out of the sewers, rats are just ambling down the street with cockroaches, and no trucks are coming in to bring food back into the city. Is it me, or is this strange? How long do you think it'll be before the military and cops abandon their city checkpoint posts? Those young men and women have families . . . they will soon be as afraid of the contagion that's got pigeons falling off the wires and ledges as well."
Imam Asula closed his eyes and dropped his head. "Then there's no other way. We cannot wait this out--this tide will not pass quickly. We must get to the Weinsteins and to Inez's loved ones ... in the final days there will be floods and famine and fire to complement the plagues. We must get off the island and cannot stay on hallowed ground paralyzed by fear. We must act. May Allah the Beneficent be with us. "
"Then we must also pray that the Weinsteins will hear us and still be where we left them," Monk Lin said in a serene tone. "We will then anoint them and pray the contagion that follows will not touch them. I will try to get word to the Philadelphia team to move baby Ayana and her grandmother. We must at all costs protect the new young seer, the child of Inez."
"That is the only way. Monk Lin is right, and so are you, Imam. We must pray for their Passover . . . that the contagion that will come will pass them by. Then we must act." Rabbi Zeitloff motioned to the window with his chin. "The air is stifling, the weather uncertain. All the signs are here."
"Our departed warrior brother spoke of this day, when the pale horse would ride and, according to his faith, the fourth seal would be broken," Imam Asula said, leaving the window to walk deeper into the living room. "One-fourth of the world would perish by the sword, and hunger, and death by the beasts of the earth."
Monk Lin nodded. "In Nepal, the monkeys have gone wild . . . have become rabid, and are attacking pedestrians on the street. The banks of the Ganges are overflowing with bodies. There are indeed wars and rumors of wars. The current pope is ill; cyclones are sweeping the Asian plateau." He pushed another worry bead along the leather cord. "Here, it is the stray dogs and the rats that carry the fleas of bubonic plague. Look outside. As hot as it is, only military patrols . . . where are the people? In New York City, if the rats completely flee the subway and sewer systems when the floodwaters come, there will be pure chaos. We must find the remaining family members of our Neteru team or die trying."
"The Old Testament, Book of Daniel -- all of it." Rabbi Zeitloff took off his thick glasses and wiped a handkerchief across his eyes. His brows knit like furry white caterpillars in the center of his forehead as he stared at his Covenant brothers. "I feel things in my gut. Monk Lin gains impressions from meditations. Imam, you have been our tactical strength . . . but we are missing our eyes. We are missing our dear, dear friend, Father Patrick-- our seer." He clenched his fist to his chest and swallowed hard. "Without his eyes, it is hard to see in the dark."
"Nana?" Ayana whimpered, pulling her small body from beneath the rubble.
Pitch-blackness surrounded her. Sharp, hard objects made her afraid to move. Dust filled her lungs, making her cough, and she could still hear the howling wind outside. That's what Nana had told her it was -- -just the wind. But spooky noises of things creaking and groaning made her shut her eyes tightly and try not to breathe. The grown-ups Nana said were there to help had fallen down, just like Nana, when the big wall fell on everybody.
She kept telling Nana that they shouldn't leave where Mommy and Uncle Mike had left them. They shouldn't have gone back to Atlanta because the wind was mixing around with trees and cars in it and windows would break. She'd heard the windows crashing in her dream, everything crashing. People got cut and had blood on them. But the grown-ups said things like that never happened in Atlanta, not downtown where they would be safe in the big, pretty hotel on Peachtree Street. The name sounded pretty then, but she still didn't like the idea. The grown-ups were using a word she didn't know . . . tornado. When she asked them more about it, they just said it was a little storm, but their eyes seemed scared.
It wasn't a little storm.
It was a big, big storm.
They had to hide in the basement. But there were so many people running into the hotel and down the steps that Grandma fell and lost hold of her hand. People who'd come to help Nana fought to get to her . . . but she was so teeny and the people running were so many. She was three and a half, almost four, a big girl, Nana said . . . but right now she felt really teeny and really scared. Then the lights went out and a big explosion happened. That's all she remembered for a long time. She had to remember everything to tell Mommy and Uncle Mike . . . and Aunt Damali.
Two big tears rolled down Ayana's nose and she sniffed hard, too frightened to cry out loud. There was something scary in the dark that other people couldn't see. She knew it. She could feel it.